I Remember
by Anni Re
Summary: The moment when Erik decides that he wants Christine back in his life before the events of Love Never Dies


I Remember 

By: Anni Re

Erik walked up the seemingly endless flights of stairs. The boards creaked under his feet, more so than the lighter more youthful feet of his companion. Erik wondered briefly if these stairs were safe for regular travel, but he concluded that if he liked what was at the summit of this trek he could easily repair them. Miss Fleck was in front of him, hauling a huge lantern at the end of her arm. Erik marveled at the unlooked for interest his new compatriots took in him and his activities, his human prodigies. He felt that especially for the aerialist, being the only woman that didn't fear or feel obligated to remain with him. The woman whom he regarded so closely turned to see if she hadn't lost him on the stairs. Erik blinked his amber eyes for he had not realized they had reached where they were going.

"I hope you like it here. There's a lot of space in here for you to work if you desire it."

"I just hope that the room is worth the trek to it," Erik replied. Erik held out his arm and Miss Fleck passed the lantern over to him. Her stage make-up shimmered in the low glow, the accents in her costume also catching the light and bouncing off of her.

Miss Fleck turned producing a key from her streamlined pocket and placed it in the door. She leaned her shoulder into the door when she turned the key, the rusty cogs within grinding in resistance. With a thud the door opened and the pair walked into the room. Miss Fleck leaned against the door while her superior strolled deeper into the room extending the lantern to look about.

"I believe," Miss Fleck called, "that this room has some wiring." Erik heard her shuffling around against the wall and then the cold, harsh light from several glass bulbs emitted from the ceiling. Erik didn't really like the new electric light. The light had no warmth in it and the buzzing of the copper filaments annoyed him. Still, the room was better illuminated then it was with just the lamplight, and he looked around with approval.

The room was a large loft with one of the walls made entirely of windows, one that opened to a small balcony. There were many articles of furniture covered in white sheets to keep off the dust. "Does it please you?"

"It does," said Erik. The room would be perfect for his work place and his office for his needs at Phantasmal. Phantasmal. His heart swelled with pride and affection for his prospering project. It took many years of time and effort before he had enough financial strength to before it became fruitful, many years of once again living as a sideshow attraction. The only consolation was that he was paid for his daily shame and ridicule, unlike his gypsy masters in his early childhood. His developing illustrious amusement park rivaled the grand Coney Island, which his enterprise shared the city with. Erik relished the complete control he had over it. He didn't have to compete for dominance like he did at the Opera Populaire. Phantasma was under construction now and already the press was eating it up, especially the mysterious and masked proprietor. Erik chuckled darkly. He had gone from being the Phantom of the Opera to the Phantom in Manhattan.

Erik placed the lantern on the ground and turned. "Come," he said and Miss Fleck came forward. They both began uncovering the various pieces furniture that was in the loft including a worktable and a bookshelf. The last piece of cloth-covered furniture was tucked away in the corner of the room. Erik and his companion lifted up the sheet and tossed it aside, revealing an ebony grand piano.

Erik paused and stared at the instrument. It was beautiful. The piano was glossed to perfection, almost like it was brand new. The brass pedals shined and the ivory keys bore not a hint of abuse. Erik slowly slipped off his tight fitting gloves and laid them on it. He walked in front of the piano and reached down for the keys with his long arms, for there was no bench to sit on. His bare fingers touched the keys. Erik held them there then stroked the ivory. A corner of his lip turned upward.

Miss Fleck saw the poise in his fingers that came with the skill. "You play?" she asked.

"Erik nodded. "Quite well," he said softly.

"I didn't know."

The corner of his lip rose even more. "There's many a thing about me that none of you know." Erik stretched his fingers to ready his muscles he hadn't used in years, humming low in his throat to accomplish the same thing with his voice box. With one hand he played around on they keys and sang the corresponding notes.

_La la la la la_

_La la la la la _

He gasped slightly at the sensation of singing when he ran out of breath. It had been almost ten years since music came from his voice, since he took his hands to a musical instrument. Erik sang more softly.

_La la la la_

Erik on the last note he sang brought up his other hand to the piano. Together his hands danced up and down the keys. Erik while he played allowed his mind to journey back to the last time he did anything musical, back when he was resident Opera Ghost at the Populaire, and Angel of Music to a lovely little girl.

_Under the bright, blue, endless sky_

His fingers pressed out a cord, which he held with the pedal.

_Wait_

He sang almost in a whisper.

_I remember that_

He played like ocean water, getting louder and softer in a rhythmic flow, going up and down the piano keys, his fingers dancing with a vitality he had forgotten.

_How I know that song_

_I remember sitting in the moonlight_

_And that feeling_

He closed his eyes, looking into himself.

_What's that feeling_

Erik had a rush of memory. He remembered how he felt when he was a child and the young, one day would be, Madame Giry had delivered him from his enslavement and he saw for the first time the Opera and its splendor. Since then he surrounded himself in the gallant old world charm within its walls. The refined aristocratic wealth and the otherworldly beauty of the performers sustained him. And the music, oh the music. Erik had never known such a mirror for his soul, a product of his passion and emotion. He learned from the greats of his boyhood in the shadow of the prompters box during rehearsals. It was not long before he surpassed his masters. Erik as a lonely boy relished the power music had over people, his music, his voice, especially. The world forgave what they were looking at with their ears. For a time in his life, he was content.

_I remember _

He sighed.

_Yes_

He had forgotten how much music had meant to him. For in truth the amusement park was an effort to forget his old life, though he had also forgotten that. He played with stronger strokes of his hands, pulling louder, fuller music from the piano.

_How I know that song_

_Though it's been so long_

His voice too got stronger as he rediscovered it, regaining its strength and power. Miss Fleck watched with and wondered how such a talent could have been so easily cast aside. She felt herself becoming entranced, seduced by her employer, much like the woman that was beginning to worm her way back into Erik's mind.

_I remember happiness _

_Without a floor or ceiling_

Erik's amber eyes were still closed, playing if he could see.

_What's that feeling_

His eyes were still looking back at those moments years ago. He remembered the girl he met when he was a young man. He remembered her growing up and falling in love with the Angel of Music. He remembered falling in love with Christine.

_I remember_

It was like a dam had broken somewhere in his soul and everything Erik had put behind it rushed once again into his being. It was so overwhelming that his hands were paralyzed.

_Oh_

His eyes snapped open.

_I remember her_

_And how we were_

Their relationship was a complex one, he did not deny, and most of it was his doing. But there was a fire in it, a fire of hate and passion.

_I remember wanting _

_What the evening would be bringing_

Erik remembered there was a time, however brief it was, Christine had loved him. When she came down to the cellars of the Opera House she loved him. He seduced her with the music of the night and she seduced him till they were past the point of no return. They made love with their mouths and voices in the night beneath the earth, for a moment.

_I remember singing_

For a moment Christine made Erik feel normal, untainted, wanted.

_Under the bright blue endless sky_

Erik left the piano though the music still thundered within him. He walked towards his companion in long powerful strides, the power of his former self. Miss Fleck stared at him dazed and in wonder. Yet, her face, to Erik, had been transformed into Christine waiting for him on the steps of the world he made for her. He stroked her face and Miss Fleck saw the man that he was before, a man she had never seen in all the years she had known him. "Who was she," she whispered, despite the fact that he was lost in his own mind to hear her, "this woman that you loved so much?"

_Waves try to measure _

_The days that we treasure_

Erik's voice was so soft it was like a breeze passing over her face. He took a couple of steps backwards then turned back to the piano.

_And I_

_I remember _

_I remember music_

Erik came back to reality and braced his hands on the piano. With one hand he played idly on the keys.

_And I'm never going back_

_To the silent law they wrote_

Erik turned and looked at Miss Fleck with a fierce intensity, the witness to his vow that he would never not feel again.

_I will sing in every tempo _

_Every last chromatic note_

He slid his hand across the black polished wood and in a few steps he was over at the window.

_For I_

Erik threw open the window.

_I remember her_

He looked down at the city and from his height it seemed as if heaven was beneath him.

_I remember music_

The city lights looked up at him in his song.

_And I remember love_

He held that note for as long as his breath could keep it, relishing its taste on his tongue. When he let it go to fly out into the world and into the heart of the one he sang for his chest heaved from the effort and adrenaline. His hands were shaking the frame of the window. "Miss Fleck," he called. She came forward and stood at his shoulder. Erik still stared out at the city when he spoke to her. "I want an opera house in Phantasma. There is a French soprano I want out of retirement."

The aerialist nodded at his back. "Yes sir," she said knowing that she had witnessed the birth of a passion, or an obsession, that would supersede them all. But, she was glad of it, for she had never seen a man more alive than the one she left on the balcony.

Only when Erik heard her close the door in departure did he move. Slowly he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out Christine's engagement ring that he had always kept there. He looked at it balanced between his thumb and forefinger. He touched it to his lips before he slipped it onto his fifth finger were it fit sung and unmoving. He crossed his arms, the ring resting over his heart.

_I remember…you_

Finis


End file.
